This One's for You...

Scary looking dude, what's up with those socks?

First whole week at rehab done. Making some progress, up to 100 lbs on the bench press machine, can transfer myself from the bed to the wheelchair without assistance, etc. Doesn’t feel like much though in the face of what lies ahead.

Powerlessness. It’s a big scary word, one that shadows us our entire lives. When we’re born we are as powerless as can be, and spend our early years gaining control over our bodies, and later as we mature, over ourselves. As we enter adulthood we begin the process of creating a life that allows us to assert what we think is power over our environment and for some power over others. We spend most of our lives trying to maintain this illusion, but life and the world around us does not always cooperate and we are always reminded of how powerless we really are over things external to us. But that’s ok because it’s external to us, ‘factors beyond our control’ and such. We write ‘force majeure’ clauses into contracts, call them ‘acts of God’ or nature, fate, karma, whatever fits your paradigm. So we go through life getting into car accidents, having houses burn down, ballgames rained out and for the most part find solace in the knowledge that so many things are beyond our control, and pretty much everyone is in the same boat.

But it’s very different when you don’t have control over yourself. We always assume that despite what goes on external to us, we have control over ourselves, and due to that control we can navigate through whatever life throws at us. Well I don’t have that anymore and it’s really messing with me. I’m no longer who I was, at least at a functional level, and it is really a hard thing to adjust to, much less accept. I know longer have control over my legs, and as such am now constrained by what I can and cannot do from a chair. And I’m not talking about stuff like riding a motorcycle or climbing Mount Everest. I’m talking the day-to-day stuff that makes a person who they are. I see someone drop something and my instinct is to help pick it up. Can’t really do that now. Can’t hold open doors for people, can’t offer to help my friend move (not sure I actually will miss that part ;-), you get the idea.

You lose control over your bowels and bladder. Then the doc gives you pills to clean you out because he says you’re backed up. Great, now I have diarrhea and no bowel control. Try that for a couple of days and see what it does to your sense of self and your dignity.

I don’t want to climb Mount Everest. I just want to be able to get into the laundry room to wash my clothes but I can’t because the door is too heavy and once I’m in the door shuts and I get stuck in there. I want to be able to go to a friends house for dinner but not have to plan out how and when I’m going to do my bowel routine at someone else’s house, something that can take up to an hour to do correctly I’m told (I’m still learning).

There’s a lot to rant about with this condition. I’m in ranting mode right now, as you may have guessed. There are a couple of others here with the same type of injury and we’re all in rant mode, except the one who won’t come out of his room, he’s on suicide watch. We’re all trying to ‘adjust to our situation’. It ain’t easy. But there’s not much choice in the matter either. You either adjust to this or you give up. Half measures will get you nowhere. For a while you can find yourself lost in the middle, not committed to going the distance and working through it, not committed to grabbing the shotgun and getting it over with. It’s a bad place to be. I’m working my way out of that place right now. I’m leaning heavily towards going the distance by the way. But it’s amazing how had it is to make that commitment, you hang on to door number 2 (the shotgun) like a life preserver or something. It’s very strange, but I think it’s due to the uniqueness of this situation. Every time in my life prior to this, whenever I was hurt or injured, I knew if I did what I was told, I would be back to where I was before, or very close. But with this, no matter how hard I try in physical therapy, no matter how much I do what they tell me, I’ll still be paralyzed. I will be in an unacceptable situation. It’s very hard to focus yourself and strive to get what essentially seems to you like a place you don’t want to go. Sure it might get better, you get stronger, you figure out how to get into that laundry room without getting trapped, but you’re still in a chair living a life you’d never wish on anyone.

You’re not actively wishing for death, but you’re unwilling to accept life on the new terms it’s being offered to you. It’s a very strange place to be.
The power I do have is in my mind and my heart, and I’m using all I have and then some.

Like many of you I’ve had to dig deep for the strength to get through a tough situation, but until now I’ve never dug deep and come up empty. I’ve had a few days like that here, and will probably have a few more. I’m still digging though. I told the psychologist today that the main thing driving me right now isn’t me, it’s my friends, it’s knowing that you all are out there, pushing for me, wanting the best for me, and how can I give up on that? Eventually I’ll need to do this for myself, but for now, this one’s for you.

Thanks